York in Poetry: Red Sky over York 2012

Posted on 25 November 2012 | Audio, Poem

This spring-winter air
has the luxurious feel of silk,
first tulip shoots rushing to meet it.
Robins singing for longer,
mistaking shopping mall lights
for extended dusk.
Returning sun – our long lost prodigal
spilling out of the ill-fitting Christmas jumper,
sated on mulled wine and raisins -
has shaken the tinsel off and draped it on the York skyline.
I gaze on it as the bus rattles home.
The sky is ablaze with friendly fire,
with nasturtium scarlet and orange that turns to pink.
Stripped tree sentinels bear witness.
I cannot take my eyes from the red sky.
As we round a corner, the glares of street lights
hang on the bright canvas, as if the stars have fallen down just for us
But does anyone else really notice?
A mother on the back row says, “Look, son,” and points upwards.
“Look at that – it’s the York Wheel.”

- Helen Sant